


searing hate into your skin (with my teeth)

by Piarelei



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, Due to Alcohol, F/F, F/M, I got whiplash, this got so dark so fast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 08:54:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21443548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piarelei/pseuds/Piarelei
Summary: The day came when Laxus kissed Mirajane for the last time.
Relationships: Cana Alberona/Laxus Dreyar, Cana Alberona/Mirajane Strauss, Laxus Dreyar/Mirajane Strauss
Kudos: 7





	searing hate into your skin (with my teeth)

**Author's Note:**

> Head the warnings! And also, I have never posted anything in english on this fandom, so... Yay? I really don't know why or how I was inspired for this. I don't even have the time actually. I should be studying. Eh.

The day came when Laxus kissed Mirajane for the last time. 

He wasn’t aware of it, as he laid a kiss on her brow, sleepy inquiry welcoming the softness of his goodbye. 

He did not, as he wished times and times after, take a moment at her bedside to watch one last time the gentle rise and fall of her warm breasts, or the languid curve of her neck as she slept the morning away. Bask in the all-encompassing beauty of her presence. 

No, the day he kissed her for the last time, he turned to jump haphazardly into a pair of pants, eager to slip away unnoticed as he heard the tremor of the waking house around them. The day he kissed her for the last time, he left with the arrogant certainty that it would not be the last time. That he would still love her come the next morning, come the next row of their tumultuous relationship, barring thunder and flames. 

He pushed his headphones in his ears, swung over the banister of her balcony and went home with the lazy steps of contentment.

  
He never went back to the Strauss’ home. Simply because it stopped being home. 

  
It happened like this:

1\. Elfman wasn’t Elfman.

2\. Lissana died.

3\. Mirajane wasn’t Mirajane.

4\. Laxus stood next to his mother’s grave, fingers digging red crescent into his palms, as the rain kissed the tips of his ears.

5\. Mirajane stood very still and stared very hard at the empty hole at her feet.

6\. No one had heard her speak in days.

(No one heard her speak for months after. Except Elfman. She told him “No. Don’t. I can’t bear looking at you now.” two days after the funeral. Laxus knew about it years later.)

7\. He went to see her every day, but she never reacted, stare empty as she gazed coolly upon the world she buried herself within, always smelling vaguely of rum and morning breath.

One day he told her, “I can’t do this anymore.” He told her, “I don’t want to do this anymore.” He told her, “You’re not even trying.” He told her, “I’ve had enough with waiting around.” He told her, “I’m moving on.” He told her, “Fuck you, Mirajane.”

He went on a quest with buzzing in his ears, fury dying the world in gray and ashes. He came back with moisture in his eyes and regret knotting his throat. 

Laxus buried his fists in the pocket of his jeans and stomped on the gravel in front of the house-that-wasn’t-a-home-anymore and bit the inside of his cheek, desperate to think of something that would make everything better.

He never quite succeeded at untying his tongue. Not with the sight of Mirajane’s ethereal hair between Cana’s tights, head bent to lap at the warmth hidden there. Not with the sweetness of her moan and the gentle buzz of reassurance that spilled from Mirajane’s lips. 

Laxus went home and starred at a wall for the rest of the evening. He stopped talking for a day or two, hate and poisonous jealousy festering in his chest like demons tearing at each others. When he emerged from his room, he felt as if he had spent a life and a half in hiding, in shame.

He shook it off, stood proud with his morbid plan on his shoulders. Laxus showered, brushed his teeth, shaved his patchy beard and went to the Guild. 

Cana was boisterous and already inebriated, and became easily pliant when he plied her with more alcohol. He took her home when the sun kissed the horizon, basking the city in hues of warmth and honey, and let her fall onto his bed naked. 

He marked her skin with questing teeth, hatred not forgotten but kept simmering, spread her thighs with a knee and halted her giggles with the easy fit of his hips against hers. He swallowed her gasps with his palm, too afraid to hear her pleasure, and rocked into her with a frenetic energy, setting a punishing rhythm, chasing his orgasm, trying to outrun the guilt that was creeping up on him. He came brutally, held by the tight heat of her insides, and Cana simply sighed against his fingers. 

She watched him a moment with bleary eyes, before she sighed one more, and rolled over to sleep. 

He stood up and took the sofa for the night, uncaring if his grandfather found him here. 

The next day, he did the exact same thing. And when he kissed her, her name was Julia, Elsa, Susan, Marie-Anne, April. And never again did he kiss Mirajane. 

But he never really stopped loving her. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
